Vana'diel's Tale
by Lux Lucis Eternus
Summary: Twenty years ago Vana'diel was in turmoil. Heros rose from the ashes of the Shadowreign,they forged bonds stronger than the finest steels, and some paved the path to victory with their lives...and legacies. Please R


**Vana'diel's Tale**

**Author: San d'Orian Honor**

**Disclaimer: I find it odd I'd need one for this. Um, story idea is mine, based on events in FFXI. This story is written by me, myself, and I, characters that are of original creation are of original creation. I needed people to fill gaps and so I made up names, any likeness to any real player of FFXI is purely coincidental. Kareseth, Cyllwen, and Tansei are my characters. Any other characters mentioned from the Phoenix server have been written in with their express permission.**

**AN: The entire Wings of the Goddess storyline has not entirely been revealed yet. Bits and pieces of how people die and whatnot hasn't really been covered. If charactes die they die in my story. I had to bend the story a bit to suit my needs, as does any writer taking some artistic liberties. Thank you! Please read, review, and enjoy!**

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_They say in life, there is a time for all things. A time to laugh, and a time to cry, a time for war and a time for peace. There is a time for all purposes under the sun. This now, is a time for stories. This is a story of Vana'diel. _

_Forty years ago, a young girl's story began. _

_It was a time of prosperity for the ancient Kingdom of San d'Oria. Her soldiers flourished, her traders delighted in sales, it was in this time, that San d'Oria's woodworkers became renowned as the greatest woodworkers in the middle lands. It was in this time that an expedition was sent to the north lands to investigate the region and was met with great tragedy. _

_Years passed and thus our story begins at the beginning of the Crystal Wars, some even called them the "Shadow Wars". These times of peril, would later become known as The Shadowreign. _

Chapter 1

**Shadowreign. **

A young boy watched from his home as soldiers were being called to fortify defenses throughout the land. He was only fifteen, a young knight in training."Kareseth?" His father's voice shattered his reverie.

He turned inside to face the taller platinum haired, blue eyed, elvaan man. "Yes father?"

"Balasiel is here. Are you all packed son?" Alorian watched his son sadly._ So young they are being sent to war, he's but a child still._ Kareseth had been recruited into the Royal Knights, soon after he began his training. Balasiel had insisted Kareseth move into the Royal Knight's Barracks, to better know his comrades, to slowly fall into the ever growing ranks of the elite Royal Knights.

Kareseth nodded once. "Yes father, I'm prepared. I was just watching…" he glanced back out at the unit gathering in the square. "They're being dispatched to Jugner, I heard father, to fortify San d'Oria's defenses."

Alorian nodded. "Correct. Many units are being dispatched to various regions, to build, and assist building, defensive walls." Alorian's own unit, had recently been dispatched to Batallia to assist the forces of Bastok in the building of a strong defensive fort. The alliance forged by Jeuno required the forces to aide one another in any, and all ways. Much to the great displeasure of much of San d'Oria's people…

"My own unit aided Bastok recently."

Kareseth smirked slightly. _Bastok, the high and mighty nation that ruined the rise of mighty San d'Oria…calling now for her aide?_

"Ironic is it not? The nation that halted San d'Oria's rise to an empire, now calls for her aide?" Kareseth laughed at his own words. What did it matter now? Empire or not, Vana'diel was in peril. Former enemies would unite and fight for Vana'diel's future. This was how things would be.

"Without a doubt son, it is ironic. Let us hope our allies are as strong as they have oft bragged." Alorian said glancing back into his home. "Come now, Balasiel is waiting."

Families all across the land bid their farewells to their eldest children. In the grand Vunkerl settlement, young men and women of noble birth, answered San d'Oria's call for aid. Among them, the La Vaulau family's eldest son, Vercherou La Vaulau. The Marquis family's twin daughter and son, Cellianea and Philippe Marquis. Even the prestigious D'Lacrau family's daughters, Tansei and Cyllwen, were sent to join various units of San d'Oria's military.

Months turned ordinary children into fine warriors. Training hardened them against the sound of blade cutting flesh and bone, hardened them against the stench of blood and decay.

Months passed into years and the Shadowreign continued on. Kareseth's Royal Knight unit served under the Royal Guards. Scout missions became supply procurement missions. Those often evolved into defending the supply routes for days. More often than not, Kareseth's unit was called to repair the defensive walls of East Ronfaure, just outside San d'Oria's gates. Here many units met, and grew closer.

The men would laugh together while the women assisted the woodworkers in sanding and preparing the logs for placement in the walls.

"They sure are something else those women. Look at them over there Kareseth! Strong as any man, fine swordswomen all. Just look at them there in the sunlight." a young knight by the name of Enfirien laughed. "I'd give an arm and a leg to survive this war to marry one of them."

Kareseth smiled as he forced a log into place. "So say all the men." He glanced over at the women. A dark haired elvaan girl smiled as she stripped bark from the soaked logs. A blonde elvaan, he could not tell if it were male or female, laughed beside her. "I'll give them credit at being diligent workers." His eyes fell on the perfectly carved wooden beam he had forced into place in the fence. Smooth, soft, not a splinter to be found. The beam had been lacquered to prevent water from seeping in and wreaking havoc on the wall. The black haired elvaan girl carried another beam over, her sleeves rolled up her hair swept back out of her face. The men all had their eyes on her.

"Here you are boys. Get to work on that wall. Don't make it look like we did all the work." She said with a cheerful laugh. She had a melodious voice, strong like the gale but still soft and feminine. She ran back over to the other women to help strip more logs. There was a sweet smell to the air that day, fresh leaves still soaked by the rains. It was a smell many elvaan found themselves fond of, especially when the alternatives were the scents of the battlefield.

Then there was a familiar sound in the forest. A royal knight's horn sounded from the Ronfaurian watch tower. It echoed through the trees, pierced the mists, and resounded against the stone walls of San d'Oria.

"Get inside all of you at once!" Kareseth called out. The alarm had been sounded, Orcs were heading for the capital. The many knights dropped their work and rushed inside. Kareseth and Enfirien stayed outside until they were certain every last knight was in the city walls. They made a swift run for the capital as the ground beneath them shook slightly. Enfirien looked out from San d'Oria's doors as Kareseth glanced over his shoulder, platinum hair whipped back in the breeze. Orcs were a mere hill away. In plain sight!

"Kareseth!! What are you waiting for get inside!" another Elvaan man called from just inside the gates next to Enfirien.

He ran, fast, hard, as swiftly as his legs could carry him. He slipped through the gates as an axe hurtled past him, freezing him in his tracks as it struck an inner gate of San d'Oria and lodged in one of the heavy oaken doors. He looked over his shoulder as the orcs approached the capital, and the heavy steel and ebony doors swung shut. Heavy locks and latch systems were implemented to prevent the doors from being penetrated. Kareseth was dragged behind the oak doors by Enfirien. "You're lucky as Altana's own child boy." Their captain said as the portcullis fell and the safety of the city was suddenly feeling more realistic to the boys. "That axe only missed you by a hair. You're lucky to be alive."

Kareseth saluted his captain and nodded. "Yes sir, I'd say I'm a relatively lucky soul."

For days San d'Oria held off the attack by the orcs. Never once did she call for the aid of Windurst or Bastok. Not once did she call Jeuno for reinforcements. Her archers picked off orcs one by one. Her Paladins cast brilliant holy magic upon the orcish forces. Her healers tended to the hungry and the exhausted. Her Red Mages cast debilitating magic upon the orcs slowly bringing them down one after another, after another.

"And that's the kind of thing you want to do? How dull." The black haired elvaan girl said to the blonde elvaan at her side. The red mages looked exhausted, still they weakened their life force to restore their mana, and continued their casting, without fail and without hesitation.

"It's not so bad." Her companion answered. "I don't see what you find so thrilling about being a ranger."

"Thrill of the hunt I suppose."

After two days of an endless orcish assault word reached San d'Oria, by word of mouth, that Rainemard was on his way back to San d'Oria from his assignment in Bastok. Even that, a friend was coming with him, supposedly, an old man named Maat, formerly of Jeuno.

"They wont make it to the city!"

"Why does that matter?! They could aide us! Pick off the orcs still outside the gates!"

"If only young Davilles' father were here…His blade would purge our lands of those orcs!."

The chatter in the city was always whispered tones of fear. It was driving Kareseth mad.

"Be silent! All of you! If you fear for your lives so, aide those defending you rather than running your cowardly mouths as usual!" The crowd fell silent and all eyes turned toward Kareseth.

"Idiot." The blonde elvaan muttered before heading off to her usual retreat.

The dark haired girl however, remained to listen. She was fascinated by the young knight suddenly taking charge of the people.

"You there sir, what is your duty? What do you do to put bread on your family's table?" He asked of the man who stated that Rainemard would never make it into the city.

"I-I'm a weaver. I work with the blacksmiths to make chain mail…f-for the knights."

"I see. Anything else sir?"

"I-I collect clean soft cloths for extra bandages, f-for the healers." The man seemed to fidget. "I don't make them pay for it, but…I try to help!"

"Then please, help with what ways you can, do not cause people to worry more than they already do." He turned pale blue eyes to the woman who had asked why it mattered, that any help would be welcome. "You miss? Perhaps you could tell me what do?"

"I'm a baker. I make bread and meals for the knights, as well as the common city folk."

Kareseth bowed and smiled. "I suppose we Royal Knights have you to thank for those fine cherry muffins the other day?"

She blushed and nodded. "My daughter thought the knights would like them…"

"I beg you, please continue your fine work for your kingdom, and we will protect this city."

The dark haired girl watched as he climbed a ladder to a high tower and asked for an archer's bow. He took an arrow and armed the bow. The people watched as he drew back the bowstring and let the arrow fly sure. There was an audible howl of pain.

"Incredible!! In one shot!!" The archer yelled.

The people began to murmur amongst themselves. "He shot down the orcish general with one arrow!!" the archer called from his post. The girl cheered with the crowd. A day later, the orcs retreated. Their stragglers were taken down by Rainemard and the strange old monk Maat.

"Good to see your city hasn't come crumbling to the ground in your absence." Maat laughed when he and Rainemard finally entered the city.

Rainemard chuckled. Only a young man of twenty himself, he felt the older man had a point. It was good to see home not in ruins. "I suppose. Did you not say you were looking for students Maat?"

"That's right. Then I'll be out of your hair. Didn't you say your wife was expecting?? Shouldn't you be heading home?"

The elvaan red mage shook his head and looked away. "I should but I must report back to his majesty first." He laughed, it was a kind cheerful laugh. "I hope we have a little girl. Daeveney is hoping for a daughter."

Maat laughed and patted Rainemard on the back. "Best of luck to you boy. I best be off." And the two parted, leaving a crowd murmuring yet again.

Some whispered their best wishes for Rainemard and his young wife. Others curious about who the martial arts master would be training.

Maat remained in San d'Oria for only a few days. Taking only a few students with him.

A few years passed, with only training, more training, and more training. Orcs tried many times to breech San d'Oria's gates, and each time, met with failure. Though they had noticed, the orcs were growing more clever in their assaults. Soon more than just the defense walls were requiring repair. Units were being wiped out, Fortresses designed to maintain the Allied Forces defenses were slowly being brought down, and time and time again, the allies would gather, send their troops out into the world of shadows, and have them repair the few defenses the allies had. In this time heros were appearing among the ranks everywhere.

Kareseth ascended in the ranks of the Royal Knights swiftly. In time, it was whispered that the Royal Guard was interested in recruiting him.

By the time he turned twenty, he was a commander of a division of the Royal Knights, and at twenty-one He was approached by the new commander of the Royal Guard, Davilles.

"There would be a test though. When the time comes, I shall set you a task, do you understand? We can not invite just anyone to the Royal Guard." Davilles said quietly one day to Kareseth in the Cathedral in Northern San d'Oria.

"I understand. I'll be awaiting my task sir." They were watched silently by the church leaders from the balcony. No second guessing, Kareseth supposed, if you were going to declare yourself prepared for a task, they would always be able to have a witness.

Days passed, weeks passed, months passed.

Kareseth continued to train and continued to carry out his missions. As a commander of the Royal Knights he was at last given the title of "Paladin" His old mail armor was replaced with the standard issue white titanium and mythril armor, buffed until it gleamed, even in the faintest of light. The soft silken cloth was woven until it was almost impossible to tear. The red velvet stitched perfectly in stood in stark contrast to the pristine white. Even the pale gold embroidery did no more than make the armor look like it was created by gods.

"And they say Windurstians are the best at cloth craft!" Laughed an old elvaan man who put the finishing touches on the surcoat after Kareseth tried it on.

"It fits perfectly. Light, easy to move in…"

"You're not likely to find better armor in the world sir." A blacksmith standing in the door way laughed. "I wove each link in that mail together myself. I beat each piece of metal for days. Oh…that's right." He held out a sheathed sword. "Davilles commissioned this. It's for you."

Across the city, Rainemard had begun the training of his newest student.

"Cyllwen keep your blade up. Focus on your opponent! If you drop your guard I will not go easy on you." Rainemard nodded to the young girl. His four year old daughter watched from wooden platforms above.

"Daddy! Play nice!" Curilla laughed. She waved cheerfully to Cyllwen. "Cyllie don't let daddy bully you."

Rainemard looked over his shoulder and smiled at his daughter. "Like you bully his royal highness prince Trion?"

Curilla laughed. "That's not the same! He needs it!"

Cyllwen laughed and struck her master's blade from his hand. "Drop your guard and I will not show you mercy Master."

Rainemard laughed. "Good. Let no one tell you that you need fight honorably in times such as these. You must survive, by any means."

Balasiel oversaw the training between Rainemard and his few courageous students. Few were willing to take on the path of a Red Mage. He watched, and his former student Kareseth often came to sit with him.

He joined him on one such day, after Cyllwen was given her standard issue training uniform. White top, red belt, and black pants.

He tightened his belt and adjusted the new sword to it. The armor felt good. He couldn't help but smile. The world's darkest hour, and there he stood, like the bright light of a small candle in a pitch black room. He thought of his father, killed two years past finishing the construction of fortifications near La Vaule settlement, he'd be so proud to see his young son now, commander of a Royal Knight unit.

"Balasiel." Kareseth nodded to the elder elvaan man.

"Ha-ha look at you boy! A Paladin now! You look great. I hear the Royal Guards are looking at you for recruitment."

Kareseth nodded glancing at the small training field. "Something…like that." He watched the pair of Red Mages training. "Who's she?" He pointed to the girl with blonde hair, almost boyish looking, with her hair tied back so that it appeared short.

Balasiel looked over the rail. "Well that man is Rainemard, top of the line Red Mage, he's the one all these students are aching to be. See his uniform? He's the one who started that look."

Kareseth glanced at Balasiel. "I didn't ask who he was. I asked who that girl was. I've seen her before…I never once caught her name though."

Balasiel looked down at the girl. "Her name, Rainemard said his new student's name was…"

"I believe her name is Cyllwen." Balasiel said after a few minutes.

Kareseth watched her, fascinated, silent. "I see."

"She's supposed to be the youngest of Rainemard's students, she seems to have a good idea what she's doing."

Kareseth nodded once. "I'm sure she'll do well under his tutelage." He turned away at the sound of a horn. "Duty calls. I will speak with you again later Balasiel. It was good to see you again."

Balasiel nodded. "You take care of yourself boy."

Kareseth laughed and waved over his shoulder, before heading down the old stairs and heading back out onto the streets. Three blasts of the horn… _Dispatch to Norvallen. _Two short blasts… _Shadoweye sighted. _Three long blasts, Four long blasts, followed by seven long blasts… _Royal Knights, Temple Knights, and Knights of the Silver Fox will be dispatched. _Kareseth sighed. _It feels like it's going to be a lovely day._ He ran swiftly to the barracks and flung the door open. "Move out at once! We have orders to defend Jugner!" These series of blasts from the horn were known only by leaders of units. It was up to a commander to give the orders, only they were trained to recognize the orders, mainly, so that people would not get frightened at orders being shouted left or right.

His men gathered swiftly, and they met before a young mage, whose duty it was to transport forces to battlefields. There were many such mages, Kareseth noted, that as there was only one in San d'Oria, battles must have been raging fiercely everywhere.

"Good luck to your forces sir." The young mage saluted and teleported the forces to Jugner Forest.

It was a disaster. The Silver Foxes were already in position. A small regiment of the Knights of Norvallen lay slaughtered. Shadoweye hovered near the outpost, and everyone could feel it's mana rising. Forces were fleeing. Kareseth cursed his lot to be a front line fighter. _Knew I should have taken up archery…_ he drew his sword deftly and glanced at the perfect mythril and orichalcum blade. It was engraved. 'From light forged to banish darkness.' Kareseth smiled slightly, a strange smile he bore onto the battlefield. Altana would protect them if she saw fit, and if she did not see fit, he would see to it that each soldier under his command and then some, would return home to San d'Oria safely.

He looked at his men and nodded. "Do not be ashamed to retreat if you are aware your life is in danger. We are not here to add to the casualties. If you see any wounded get them to safety. Healers will be dispatched shortly. I will view none of you as cowards should you find yourself needing to retreat. Now take up arms! For San d'Oria!"

Lightning streaked across Jugner's stormy skies. Kareseth's blade, raised to the heavens, flashed in the brief light. His men drew their swords and raised their blades with their commanders. There was a collective cry, "For San d'Oria!" and the Royal Knights began their assault.

Arrows streaked past each and every one of them, the Silver Fox Archers, highly skilled marksmen, debilitated foes left and right with perfectly executed shots. Arrows pierced the eyes of many orcs that had joined the fray, rendering them blind. The Temple Knights began their assault after the first volley. Her paladins backed up the Royal Knight division with healing, and enhancing spells, as well as assaulted the gnats flying about with divine spells.

All around there were the wounded. Temple Knights stopped combat to remove the injured from the battlefield. A few remained with the wounded while the rest continued their attack.

One such young knight was doing so close by. She was a young girl, barely nineteen. She had taken the path of a Temple Knight to better aid the wounded in combat. She spent her time healing the injured, even if she was merely sustaining their lives until the more adequately trained healers, White Mages and Scholars, appeared.

Kareseth saw her tending to the many injured. _Good. The men will make it out. Nothing to fear. _

"KARESETH! COMMADER BEHIND YOU!" one of the knights under his command called.

Too late.

There was a wave of heat that wracked his body. It was fire magic. He shielded his face and turned away as much as possible. The heat came and went. Armor undamaged, life somehow still in tact, Kareseth turned his blade upon Shadoweye.

"Demon, this blade will send you back to hell where you belong!"

The knights rallied. So many young commanders had met their ends on the Norvallen Front, the Royal Knights, the Temple Knights, even the Silver Foxes were determined to not let another fall to Norvallen's deadly grip.

The volley of arrows was redirected at Shadoweye. The spells of the Temple Knights focused on bringing down the horrid demon of shadows. Each blade of the Royal Knights fell upon Shadoweye until, severely weakened, Shadoweye retreated.

One last spell struck the men, bringing most of the knights to their knees. Kareseth too collapsed, defiantly gripping his sword and raising it to the heavens once more.

Cheers erupted from the woods where the Foxes had stationed themselves for combat. Even the injured cheered as healers forced them to remain still while their wounds were tended to. The knights helped Kareseth to his feet slowly. "Too many lost…" He muttered glancing around at the battlefield.

The small regiment of the Knights of Norvallen had been slaughtered. Young men and women had met an early end…some looked no older than fourteen. "They were only children."

"Such are the times Kareseth." Berlends, commander of the Silver Foxes crossed her arms and looked at him. "You need to steel yourself against this. This is war."

"They were just children. Too young to be sent into combat. No child should be forced to give their life in a place like this."

"Who said they were forced? Nothing was forced upon them! They opened their hearts to Altana's will!" Berlends countered. Her tone was harsh. "They gave their lives to defend their home. La Vaule settlement is just a bit to the south. Would you not give your life to protect San d'Oria? Do you not think the young knights recruited from the Vunkerl Settlement would do the same? These knights died to protect their homes, the people they love, the nation they adore! And above all they died to protect Altana's gift to them, Vana'diel."

Kareseth narrowed his eyes at Berlends. "Speak not to me of something you do not understand."

"What did you say to me?" Her own eyes narrowed. No boy from the city was going to tell her, a general of five years when she could or could not speak, or of what the topic permitted would be.

"I said, do not speak to me of something you do not understand." Kareseth pointed his blade at the general. "I have watched countless men die in the name of their homelands and their people. I have seen the terror in their eyes as they faced death. Do not dare tell me these children wanted to do this. None of them wanted to die for anything! They wanted to live to see victory."

"I suggest you put away your sword Kareseth…" Berlends said threateningly. "Wouldn't want this to look like an act of treason would you?"

The commanders shared vicious glares with one another before Kareseth sheathed his sword. _Wench. Women like you do not belong on the battlefield. Brainwashed by the church…faith will do nothing for you out here._ "I feel your faith in Altana and the church is misplaced in a time like this. No one willingly dies for a goddess they can not see. No one willingly dies for a goddess who does not answer their prayers for peace and to end this suffering."

"You're lucky Kareseth that my duties as Heresy Examiner are no longer priority for San d'Oria or I would have you thrown into the oubliette for heresy!"

Kareseth laughed and waved his forces to a safe spot to set up camp. "You'd be most welcome to try lady. I assure you, you'd fall by my blade before I let you get me anywhere near that pathway to hell."

Tension rose between all the forces dispatched to Jugner. Until the command to withdraw came, they would be stationed there, and their orders stood. Kareseth, among the other commanders, grew weary of the harsh Jugner and even more weary on the effects the harsh environment and savage attacks were having on his men.

_"Attacks every few hours, scouts forced to find alternative routes back? What could all this mean?"_

_"Maybe the Beastmen plan to take La Vaule?"_

_"Would our units alone be enough to protect La Vaule?"_

There were doubts…

"What if they get past these _defense_ lines?? I hear Bastok was nearly taken the other day!!"

"Absurd!! With the kind of firepower they have!? If Bastok falls its only a matter of time…before…"

There were fears…

"I hear them say in Vunkerl you can hear howls coming from the valley far below the settlement."

"Howls??"

"They say things worse than the beastmen lurk in the shadows…"

There were rumors…

Kareseth heard the whispers as he walked among his men. He heard the hushed whispers among other units, they cowered in their tents, and huddled around their fires. So many, so young, some younger even than he.

He climbed up one of the watch unit's towers and relieved the scout on duty, telling the young boy, he needed rest, two days of watch were enough to exhaust anyone.

Kareseth watched the sky of Jugner darken yet again and reflected on the words the soldiers. If hunger and weakness did not destroy the troops, mere word of mouth would certainly do the trick...

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More to come soon thank you for reading! Now, hit that review button. Go on, you know you want to.


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